He came home late one night\u2014shirt wrinkled, hair disheveled, eyes avoiding mine\u2014and I knew something was coming. He didn\u2019t say anything at first. Just dropped onto the couch like the weight of his decision had finally caught up to him.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe need to talk.\u201d<\/p>\n
The kind of phrase that shatters your stomach in one clean slice.<\/p>\n
When I asked what was wrong, he said he felt trapped. That I was always tired. That I\u2019d become boring. I just blinked at him. My brain tried to connect the words to the reality I was living. I was exhausted, yes. That happens when you\u2019re the one changing diapers, juggling feedings, cooking meals, managing laundry, and soothing a baby back to sleep at 2 a.m. while he stayed late at \u201cwork.\u201d<\/p>\n